


Astra Inclinant

by unspeakable3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Orion Black's A+ Parenting, POV Regulus Black, Regulus Black Feels, Regulus Black-centric, Slytherin, Slytherin Common Room, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unspeakable3/pseuds/unspeakable3
Summary: Regulus Black just wants peace, quiet, and a little acknowledgement from time to time.Follow his journey through his first year at Hogwarts and beyond as he tries to navigate family, friends, homework and Death Eaters.Canon-compliant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hat began to speak, muttering how he had the head of a serpent but the soul of an eagle and the heart of a lion

Sirius, in a most unlike-Sirius fashion, had been packed for days. If Regulus hadn’t known better, he might have thought that his older brother hadn’t ever bothered to _unpack_ once he’d returned home from his first year at Hogwarts earlier that summer, but he knew that Mother had forced him to. He’d seen the evidence.

But now, with mere hours to go before both sons of the House of Black would be boarding the Hogwarts Express, Regulus found he was overcome with nerves and hesitation. He was stood in the middle of his bedroom, school trunk open on the floor and almost empty, while the house-elf looked on with watery eyes.

“Master Regulus will be wanting plenty of socks, yes, in that draughty old castle. It is cold and damp in the Slytherin dungeons and Kreacher knows how Master Regulus dislikes being cold.”

“Thank you, Kreacher,” he said weakly, watching as the elf levitated neat piles of folded black socks out of his chest of drawers and into his trunk. It was cold in Gryffindor Tower too, he suspected, but he didn’t dare voice out loud the fear that he would follow in his brother’s footsteps and be Sorted _there_. Only Slytherin House would be acceptable for him after what Sirius had done.

“…And thick wool jumpers, too, and Kreacher has written Master Regulus’s name in each one. Kreacher knows that Master Regulus takes very good care of his clothes, but those _Hogwarts elves_ are not as fastidious as Kreacher, no.”

The corner of Regulus’s mouth quirked up at Kreacher’s scowl. He had been fussing all summer about the _inferior nature_ of the house-elves up at the school, worrying that they wouldn’t be able to warm Regulus’s bed the way that he liked, or iron his clothing properly, or cook his favourite meals. Even Sirius had (grudgingly) admitted that Kreacher’s cooking was far better than the school elves’, but he hadn’t had any other complaints so Regulus wasn’t too worried. He still wished he could take Kreacher with him, though; he would miss his wrinkled old friend.

He handed Kreacher his stack of newly-acquired textbooks — already with cracked spines and dog-eared pages, much to Mother’s annoyance; she complained that his peers would think they were second-hand but in reality Regulus just hadn’t been able to hold himself back from reading them — and the elf shrunk them and carefully tucked them away between starched white shirts and warm winter cloaks.

“Would Master Regulus like to take Hydrus with him to Hogwarts?”

Regulus snapped his head round to the stuffed dragon sitting atop his pillows at the head of his bed. The toy looked a little worse for wear with a torn ear, dangling eye and singed patch of fur that was a result of Sirius experimenting to try and make it breathe real fire. He would like very much to take Hydrus to Hogwarts; his stuffed dragon was the only thing that had helped him to sleep this long year that Sirius had left him alone at home. But would the other children have stuffed toys with them?

Sirius hadn’t taken Tufty. He had tried but Mother had taken it out of his trunk at the very last moment and they had argued about it all morning, ruining everything. Regulus knew that Kreacher would hide Hydrus for him if he really wanted to take it. Maybe he should. Just in case. He could leave it in his trunk if it turned out that none of the other children had stuffed toys with them, or maybe hide it under his sheets so no one else could see.

Regulus nodded. “Just in case.”

“Kreacher will pack Hydrus in the morning. Master Regulus should go to sleep now, it is getting very late.”

“Alright,” he agreed, attempting to stifle a yawn. It _had_ been dark for hours. “Thank you, Kreacher.”

He lay down on the bed and Kreacher patted him on the head. “Goodnight, Master Regulus,” he said, his croaky voice wavering. Regulus felt rather emotional too as he realised that this would be the last time that Kreacher would wish him goodnight for _months_.

“Goodnight Kreacher,” he said tightly, turning his back to the elf so he might not see the tears forming in his eyes. It was only when Regulus heard the telltale _crack!_ that signified Kreacher’s disappearance that he pulled the covers over his shoulders, curled into a ball, and hugged Hydrus to his chest as he silently wept.

The darkness outside had almost lifted by the time Regulus had finally drifted into a restless sleep, and he felt groggy and heavy-headed when Kreacher awoke him the following morning. He sat up and yawned widely, rubbing at his groggy eyes as the house-elf pulled back the heavy green velvet curtains at his window and let the morning sunlight flood his bedroom. It looked to be a bright, clear day: the kind of day that would normally have Sirius insisting that they go flying on their brooms or on Aunt Cassiopeia’s Granians. Not today, though, Regulus realised and flopped back onto his pillows with a groan.

Some time later, after Kreacher had managed to coax him out of bed and into the bathroom to wash and dress and make himself look presentable, Regulus was sat at the breakfast table with Mother and Father and Sirius.

There had been some bickering already because Sirius hadn’t tucked his shirt in or done all his buttons up and had somehow managed to crease it in the short journey from his bedroom to the dining room. Regulus, of course, had kept his shirt immaculate but Mother hadn’t appeared to notice.

Sirius had griped that the eggs were poached and not scrambled but Regulus was happy about that because poached eggs were his favourite — he hadn’t quite realised that Kreacher knew that and had cooked them for that very reason. Kreacher had wanted his favourite little Master to head off on his first trip to school with the memory of excellent eggs fresh in his mind because Salazar knew the Hogwarts elves wouldn’t be able to poach eggs to his exacting standards.

Father spent the meal hidden behind his newspaper, as always, sipping at a black coffee that was laced with Firewhisky. Regulus would be surprised if he noticed that both his sons were missing at breakfast the following morning. Mother alternated between scowling at her grapefruit and scowling at Sirius. Sirius seemed unaware of her gaze and was concentrating on scoffing his food at an alarming rate, head bent over the plate and knee jiggling underneath the table, despite his earlier complaints about the eggs.

Regulus, for his part, tried to enjoy a rare (mostly) peaceful breakfast and hoped that his stomach would settle enough for him to be able to keep his food down on the long train journey north.

For Sirius, time seemed to move at a glacial pace that morning. But all too soon Regulus found himself standing in front of the fireplace for a last minute inspection from Mother. His appearance was deemed acceptable, but he had to wait for Sirius to tie his shoelaces and straighten his robes and comb his hair before they could leave.

Father had retired to his study without so much as a farewell.

Mother went through the Floo with Sirius, presumably because she thought he might flee the second he was out of her sight. Kreacher took Regulus, and he squeezed the elf’s wrinkled hand as the world whirled around him and was grateful that Mother was too preoccupied to notice him stumble as they exited into the wizarding waiting room at King’s Cross.

The station was busy. Regulus was sure he had never seen so many people in one place in his life; certainly not so many _muggles_. He tried not to stare. Sirius received a clip around the ear but fortunately the waiting room was just a few steps away from the barrier between platforms nine and ten and soon enough they were through to the other side, away from those muggles. Well, most of those muggles. Sirius had said that some of the students in his year had muggles for _parents_. Mudbloods. Regulus was rather nervous about this and hoped he wouldn’t have to speak to any.

Platform nine-and-three-quarters was, if possible, even busier than the muggle part of the train station. Regulus felt hemmed in at all sides as children yelled at each other and ran about all over the place as if they had never been taught their manners. Their parents weren’t much better, rushing backwards and forwards with trunks and cages and shouting at their offspring to hurry up onto the train.

Mother had found Aunt Druella — who was here to drop off Cissa, the last of Regulus’s first cousins remaining at Hogwarts — and Sirius had made the most of her distraction to abandon his brother in favour of his new _friends_. Doubtless that gormless-looking bespectacled boy with unruly hair was that _Potter_ Sirius hadn’t been able to shut up about all summer. Regulus crept ever closer to Kreacher’s side until Mother had chided him and told him to board the train with his head held high like a Proper Black.

He had obeyed, disheartened that he had ever bothered to hope that she might send him off with a pleasant word or even a kiss on the cheek. But Kreacher squeezed his wrist and sniffed, and that was almost as good.

The narrow corridors of the Hogwarts Express was filled with boisterous boys _and_ just-as-boisterous girls jostling and pushing and knocking him as they darted past, shrieking with laughter as they were reunited with old friends or leaning out of the windows to gawp and wave at their parents.

Regulus had felt utterly lost until Cissa had poked her head out of a compartment door and ushered him inside. But this, too, felt claustrophobic. He was sat opposite her boyfriend (the Malfoy boy; soon to be her fiancé if Aunt Druella was to be believed) with their knees almost touching because he was taking up an inordinate amount of space. Regulus felt quite small in comparison. Alright, maybe he _was_ small. And he felt like he was getting smaller and smaller as the journey went on, wedged between his cousin-by-marriage Evan and the compartment wall.

He was mostly silent as the train rumbled on and spent his time half-listening to the older students’ conversations about Professor Dumbledore’s shortcomings and who they thought the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher might be and who had gotten engaged over the summer and who might be getting an apprenticeship next summer. They had said the word _apprenticeship_ in rather odd voices but Regulus was too busy trying not to be sick to pay as much attention as he might have done under normal circumstances.

He was worried about the Sorting (he _had_ to be in Slytherin), about his classes (he _had_ to do better than Sirius), about making friends (just one, please), about hiding his homesickness and missing Kreacher and Mother and even Father. Evan was a first year too, but he didn’t seem particularly nervous about anything. He had even made one of Cissa’s friends laugh. Regulus wasn’t sure if he had ever made anyone laugh.

Things didn’t improve when the Hogwarts Express had reached its destination. He had abandoned his trunk and his owl (Malfoy, a Prefect, had assured him that they would be safely escorted to the Castle and waiting for him in the Slytherin dormitory) and found himself crammed into an impossibly small boat with Evan and two other boys. He had met an enormous hairy man and he was sure that if Mother knew this half-breed was in charge of escorting the students across the Lake she would be furious. He might tell her when he wrote home.

He survived the Lake crossing and a stern lecture from a strict witch who turned out to be the Gryffindor Head of House. Regulus supposed she had to be stern and strict if she had Sirius and his friends to contend with. He had met the Slytherin Head of House before at one of Aunt Druella’s summer parties and knew that he was a jovial, if slightly vacuous, sort of fellow.

And when he entered the Great Hall and saw its enchanted ceiling he forgot, for the first time in weeks, all his anxieties and worries about school.

He didn’t notice the four long wooden tables filled with students in dark robes, exactly like his but for the coloured linings and House crests, their faces lit only by the light of a thousand flickering candles and the enchanted stars above them. He didn’t notice his brother sat among the lions or his cousin with the serpents, two pairs of eyes searching for his among the crowd. He didn’t notice the row of professors at the far end of the Hall, with the muggle-loving Headmaster sitting tall in the middle of them in garish violet robes. He didn’t notice the ancient Sorting Hat, sat ready for them, or the floating House banners or the hourglasses waiting to be filled with glittering gems.

All Regulus had eyes for was the inky black canopy above him, the perfect replica of the real sky outside, dotting with bright twinkling stars and a curved crescent moon and the faintest wisp of a cloud. He wondered what kind of power was needed for such an enchantment, whether it had been (or could be) replicated anywhere else, what it looked like when there was inclement weather — would it look like raindrops splashing against glass, or would it actually rain inside and perhaps evaporate before it could fall on their heads?

A jostling at his side interrupted Regulus’s thoughts and for the first time he looked down and around him. He joined the queue of first years now lining up in front of the professors’ table, some looking rather excitable. The blonde girl to his right was almost quivering with anticipation. Others looked nervous, Regulus among them. He attempted to conceal his emotions as best he could, just like Father did. He tugged at his collar. It had to be Slytherin; there could be no other house. Not for him. Not after Sirius.

An Abbott, a Bagnold, a Belby and a Bell were sorted before him. Two Hufflepuffs and two Gryffindors. And when Regulus took his place on that old wooden stool and felt the old leather Hat placed rather unceremoniously on his head and when the Hat began to speak, muttering how he had the head of a serpent but the soul of an eagle and the heart of a lion he gripped the edge of the stool, his knuckles turning white, as he desperately tried not to shout out _Slytherin, it can only be Slytherin!_ for all the school to hear.

The Hat must have understood, because it bellowed out _SLYTHERIN!_ and such relief poured through his veins as he lifted it from his head with shaking hands and placed it back on the stool behind him. The Slytherin table felt very far away.

He looked across the hall to the table draped in red and gold without really realising it, searching for his brother. Sirius was concentrating very hard on staring at his empty plate. Regulus could see his fists clenched tightly on the tabletop. His foot was probably tapping on the stone floor underneath the table the way it always did when he was annoyed or anxious and trying desperately not to lash out. Sirius always seemed to be trying not to lash out these days. And there was Potter, whispering something to his brother while another boy filled a goblet with water and pushed it towards him.

Regulus sighed. He hoped Sirius would understand.

He had done it for him, after all. If Regulus was housed with the serpents then maybe Mother wouldn’t mind so much that Sirius was with the lions. Maybe she wouldn’t get so angry and maybe she wouldn’t shout and maybe she’d stop throwing things. If Regulus did everything that she wanted, if he played the part of the perfect pureblood son, the perfect Black son, then maybe she would leave his brother alone.

With a deep breath, he tore his eyes from the Gryffindor table and looked to the Slytherins. Cissa’s long white-blonde hair stood out immediately. She was beckoning him over, smiling indulgently, and he forced his feet to carry him to his favourite cousin even though it felt like he was wading through thick sludge.

She had saved a space for him beside her on the bench, and despite thinking he was probably supposed to sit at the end of the table and wait for the other newly-sorted first years he sat beside her anyway.

“Well _done_ , Reggie!” she whispered over the applause as the girl who had followed him to the Sorting Hat was sent to Hufflepuff. “We’re all _so_ proud of you! You must write to your mother as soon as you get to your dormitory. She will be delighted!”

And Cissa kissed him on the side of his head and he probably should have pushed her away or looked disgruntled at her babying him in front of his new housemates but it felt nice, and comforting, and almost like someone was looking out for him. Almost like someone _cared_ about him.

All too quickly the Sorting Ceremony was over and the Hall descended into chaos. Food appeared in front of them to shrieks of delight from some students — half-bloods and mudbloods, no doubt — and he had to endure Cissa’s fussing over his selections (he just wanted a bowl of mashed potato and gravy but that wasn’t _appropriate_ ) and the thundering chatter around him. Elbows and knees knocked into him as he tried to eat as sedately and politely as he had been brought up to do, but the sombre dining room at Grimmauld Place was about as far away from the cacophonous Great Hall as the twinkling star he was named for.

Then, to top it all off, he had to suffer the indignity of sharing a bedroom and a bathroom with _four_ other boys. Even with the curtains drawn tightly around his bed and privacy charms erected he felt exposed and surrounded on all sides. He could hear Evan’s laughter as he chatted away merrily to the other boys (Rowle was alright, he supposed, but he’d never heard of Higgs or Dunbar and what if they were mudbloods? what would Mother say?) and he could hear horrible wet squelchy sounds as _things_ that lived in the Great Lake slapped against the dormitory windows. It was cold and it was damp and whichever house-elf had put the warming pan in his bed hadn’t done a very good job because his sheets were tepid at best and Kreacher had been right, the Hogwarts elves were _rubbish_. He pulled on a third pair of those thick woollen socks his house-elf had packed and huddled with Hydrus beneath the bedcovers that didn’t smell anything at all like home.

Regulus longed for peace and quiet and solitude. He felt desperately indignant that no one had thought to warn him that Hogwarts Castle, despite its vastness, would be so full of other people.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t know how to tell Sirius that everything was too noisy and too full of people and too not like home because Sirius had always liked noise and people and not being at home.

The first of September and the Hogwarts Sorting Ceremony had fallen on a Friday this year, which meant that the new first years had been granted a full weekend to settle into life at Hogwarts before their classes began the following Monday.

Regulus sort of wished they hadn’t, though.

The dark Slytherin dormitory had been even colder and damper when he woke up on Saturday morning than it had been when he’d gone to bed. There was no Kreacher there to light a fire and throw back his curtains to let in the morning light, and the warming pan at the foot of his bed had forgotten what warmth was overnight. Regulus kicked at it in frustration and to his horror the copper pan fell to the stone floor with a loud metallic clatter. He cringed. The occupant of the bed to his left muttered something indecipherable and Regulus held his breath but, fortunately, they remained asleep.

He felt awkward and self-conscious as he pulled back the heavy green hanging surrounding his bed and peered out. The pale morning light was straining to fill the dormitory, but as it filtered through the green-grey waters of the Great Lake it did nothing more than cast the room in a dim glow. Regulus quickly hid Hydrus, his stuffed dragon, underneath his pillows and dug around in his trunk as quietly as he could for clean clothes before padding on thick socked feet to the shared bathroom.

The shower, blessedly, was piping hot and he spent far longer beneath the steamy water than he would under normal circumstances, only leaving the warmth when his fingertips were pink and wrinkled. He dried himself, dressed, and brushed his teeth and when he finally emerged back into the dormitory found that his new roommates were _still_ all fast asleep. Unsure if he felt relieved about that or not, he left for the common room.

Even though it was well beyond dawn by now the large fireplace that dominated one wall of the common room was still unlit. Kreacher’s voice, muttering about the laziness and negligence of the Hogwarts elves, echoed in his head. Kreacher would have made sure that the fire was kept lit all through the night just in case anyone should wake at a random hour because Merlin forbid any member of the Black family experience what it was like to be cold in the familial home. Not here, though. Regulus shivered and wished he’d put on a second jumper.

It was even colder beside the tall glass windows of the common room that looked into the Lake, but Regulus was drawn to them regardless. He sat himself down on a plump cushion in the window seat and drew up his knees, hugging them to his chest as he gaze out into the murky waters and, at last, felt some semblance of peace in solitude.

Except he wasn’t alone, because there was a mermaid swimming through the depths towards him. She was gliding along with the underwater current, all pale grey skin and wild green hair floating like seaweed around her head. Regulus pressed both hands against the glass and leaned forwards to get a better look at her because he’d never seen a mermaid in real life before, only drawings of them in books. But when she came close, right up to the window, she _hissed_ at him and bared her sharp jagged teeth and then she spun around and her long silver tail thwacked against the window and made Regulus recoil in shock.

There was loud, sharp laughter from somewhere behind him. Regulus turned and flushed when he realised that a small group of older students had arrived in the common room whilst he’d been transfixed by the mermaid and had apparently witnessed him flinching.

“Don’t worry, it happens all the time,” a dark-haired girl said kindly. Regulus scurried away from the window and across the common room floor before anyone else could speak to him, embarrassed to have been caught in a moment of weakness but grateful that he hadn’t been spotted by his cousin or her boyfriend.

He thought he might see if Sirius was down at breakfast since he was often an early riser at home too (or perhaps that was just so he could try to avoid Mother and Father?) and they hadn’t had the chance to talk since Regulus had been Sorted last night. He was still worried that Sirius would be angry at him for being placed into Slytherin even though he hadn’t had a choice, really. He hoped his brother would understand.

And Sirius _was_ there at breakfast, smiling and laughing and surrounded by other boys who were also smiling and laughing and piling food onto their plates, but as Regulus took a step towards the Gryffindor table a large hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Lucius Malfoy steered him firmly towards the Slytherin table instead.

“Slytherins do _not_ sit with Gryffindors at mealtimes,” he said sternly, sitting Regulus down in an empty space at their own table opposite Narcissa. “Or at any other time, in fact. Except for in lessons where there is a seating plan and it is completely unavoidable.”

Regulus bristled. Lucius might be older than him (and the Head Boy) but he was just a Malfoy after all and he, Regulus, was a _Black_. His mother’s voice whispered in his head that a Malfoy should not be telling a Black where he could and could not sit.

“Don’t be so hard on him, Lucius,” said Cissa in a sweet, cajoling voice, her hand on Lucius’s arm as he took a seat on the bench beside her. “It’s only his first day.”

“I was going to see my brother,” Regulus frowned as Lucius kissed Cissa on the cheek. She _giggled_ , and Regulus felt quite queasy.

“I know Reggie darling, but things are a little… complicated. Now, eat up your breakfast while it’s still hot.”

Regulus looked down at the mound of sausages and eggs (scrambled, unfortunately) that his cousin had piled onto his plate and reluctantly picked up his knife and fork. While Cissa slipped back into conversation with Lucius he chanced a glance over at the Gryffindor table; Sirius was watching him with a lazy smile and raised his hand in greeting when he caught his eye. Regulus gave him a quick smile in return, but ducked his head back down once he noticed the boys around his brother turning to see what he was waving at.

Some of the other Slytherin first years appeared while Regulus was eating, but they all seemed reluctant to dine anywhere near the watchful eye of the Head Boy and converged at the other end of the table instead. All apart from Evan, that is, who wedged himself in next to Regulus.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully, reaching across Regulus to grab a pitcher of pumpkin juice. “Where’d you run off to this morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Regulus said with a shrug.

“Cold?”

He nodded.

“Same,” sighed Evan, pulling a face. “I had to wear _two_ pairs of socks and my feet were still like blocks of ice.”

“I wore three,” Regulus grimaced. “Kreacher warned me it would be cold but I didn’t think it would be _that_ uncomfortable.”

“Maybe you could persuade your parents to send Kreacher here to look after us?” Evan said hopefully.

“I think it more likely that Mother herself would come to tuck us in each night than give up the comfort of her house-elf.”

Evan was Regulus’s cousin-by-marriage — Cissa’s mother was Evan’s aunt, and she was also married to Regulus’s uncle — and knew Walburga Black well enough to understand just how unlikely _that_ scenario was. They exchanged grins and Regulus turned back to his breakfast, his melancholy mood beginning to lift.

“The dungeons are deliberately kept at a cold temperature rather than being warmed by magic,” Lucius said in a rather pompous voice from across the table. “Salazar Slytherin himself thought it a splendid way to build character.”

“But we all ask the house-elves for extra blankets and hot water bottles anyway,” Cissa added in a loud whisper. Lucius stuck his nose in the air and pretended that he hadn’t heard her; she gave the younger boys a wink before turning back to her breakfast plate.

Between mouthfuls of toast heaped with marmalade, Evan introduced Regulus to the rest of his Slytherin classmates from afar; he had apparently had plenty of time to chat to them this morning as they were getting ready for breakfast. Regulus already knew Thorfinn Rowle, Iris Greengrass and Aurelia Nott since many of the children of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families experienced enforced socialisation long before they reached Hogwarts. The Blacks hadn’t been too fond of this practice, considering themselves superior even to the other pureblood families, but Regulus had still come across the other children at family events and summer social occasions.

The other children, though, were new to him. Robert Dunbar — whose father worked for Evan’s father’s accountancy firm — seemed a cheerful boy with dark skin and darker hair who had those around him enthralled with whatever story he was telling. Their final roommate was Angus Higgs, a pale and freckly Scottish boy digging into his heaped breakfast with gusto.

Evan explained in a whisper that Angus was a half-blood and that his family were the only wizards on the Hebridean island he had come from and Regulus didn’t know whether he was more intrigued or horrified by such a thing. Robert was a pureblood though, so that was alright.

After breakfast Evan intended to explore the grounds with the other boys but Regulus waved him off, thinking that so much socialisation with so many unknown people so early in the day was sure to give him a headache. Instead he planned to retreat to the dormitory and arrange his wardrobe or perhaps investigate the library, but as he was exiting the Great Hall someone grabbed his sleeve and yanked him behind a pillar. Before Regulus had the chance to yell out in surprise the someone clamped their hand over his mouth and wrapped their other arm around him, pinning his own arms to his sides with practiced ease.

“Good morning, little brother!’

Regulus’s shoulders relaxed immediately at the familiar voice and Sirius released him from his grip. Regulus turned around and pinned his older brother with the most withering look he could manage which, admittedly, could probably do with some work.

“How was your first night? Settling in alright?” Sirius asked. With his hands in his pockets and leaning against the stone wall he looked more at home than he ever had at Grimmauld Place. And Regulus wasn’t entirely sure what Sirius was wearing, but he must have kept it well-hidden from Mother and Kreacher because it was certainly not what either of them would deem appropriate attire for a Black.

“It was alright,” Regulus shrugged, brushing out the creases from his black sweater where Sirius had grabbed him.

“Only alright?”

Regulus shrugged again. He didn’t know how to tell Sirius that everything was too noisy and too full of people and too _not like home_ because Sirius had always liked noise and people and not being at home. Regulus wasn’t sure if he would be able to understand.

“Well,” Sirius said, shifting from foot to foot. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay since I didn’t see you on the train and didn’t get to talk to you last night. You must be happy you’re with Cissa, right?”

“I suppose,” he conceded.

“Don’t say you thought you were going to follow me into Gryffindor!” Sirius laughed.

“Well, no…”

“Mother’ll be happy you’re in Slytherin.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to the dungeons or wherever it was you were going. I s’pose you’ve got lots of things you want to do.”

“Mm,” Regulus said noncommittally.

Sirius tilted his head to the side, considering for a brief moment, before he pulled Regulus into a tight one-armed hug and ruffled his hair with his other hand. Regulus made noises of protestation but didn’t do too much to fend his brother off because this was nice and it made him forget, just a little bit, how far away he was from Kreacher’s cooking and the privacy of his bedroom and the lovely evening sun that made the tapestry in the drawing room shimmer and shine in that deliciously magical way.

“So you’re not mad?” Regulus mumbled into the rough fabric of Sirius’s t-shirt.

“Mad? That’s debatable,” he grinned roguishly, taking Regulus by the shoulders and pushing him back, just far enough away for them to see each other’s faces once again. “Have you met my mother? I hear it’s hereditary.”

“Sirius,” he huffed.

“Regulus.”

“I _mean_ ,” Regulus sighed. “You’re not angry? That I’m in Slytherin?”

He spoke quietly, twisting the cuffs of his jumper in his hands. His mother’s voice echoed in his head again, warning him to stop fidgeting, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Course I’m not angry! Why would I be?” Sirius replied, surprised.

Regulus shrugged, looking down at the flagstoned floor and his shiny polished shoes, an odd contrast to the heavy scuffed boots his brother always wore.

“Look, Reg…” Sirius scratched the back of his head and shifted uncomfortably. “I _love_ being a Gryffindor but I never expected you to join me there. We’re too different. You’d hate it. There’re dung bombs going off all the time and no dark corners to hide in.”

Regulus screwed up his nose. That _did_ sound awful.

“I thought you might get Hufflepuff,” he grinned, a glint in his grey eyes.

“That’s about the only house the Hat _didn’t_ suggest,” Regulus mumbled, recalling the Sorting Hat’s words from the night before: _heart of a lion, soul of an eagle, head of a snake._ Did that make him some sort of hideous chimaera?

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Sirius smiled his dazzling smile that had so often evaporated Regulus’s lingering fears, and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m _glad_ you’re in Slytherin — don’t make that face — because you’ve got cousin Cissy to watch over you and Evan to annoy you and Mother’ll be so pleased she might even forget to send me a Howler this term. And at Christmas the whole family will be so busy congratulating you on following them into Slytherin that they won’t notice when I steal all the desserts.”

“Alright,” Regulus said quietly. “Thanks.”

“Want to come to the Lake with us?” Sirius asked, turning to gesture towards the three boys lingering by the enormous doors of the Entrance Hall. “James wants to see if the Giant Squid prefers strawberry jam or marmalade.”

Regulus looked over his brother’s shoulder and saw his brother’s friends standing in a little group. The one with glasses was holding a pile of toast in one hand and gesturing with the other while the shortest one looked at him in admiration. The tallest boy had a resigned sort of expression and glanced over in their direction. He caught Regulus’s eye and gave him a small, shy smile that Regulus was too embarrassed to return. He quickly turned his attention back to his brother.

“No, it’s alright,” he said. He felt that he’d had more than enough encounters with the Lake for one morning and besides, he didn’t want to encroach on _Sirius’s_ friends. “I think I’ll just go and unpack my trunk.”

And after a final quick hug from his brother Regulus made his way back down to the dungeons feeling a whole lot lighter than he had when he had woken up that morning.

The common room was still fairly empty, with most of the Slytherins still at breakfast, and Regulus edged past the windows hoping to avoid an encounter with a toast-wielding squid. He spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon in the peacefully quiet dormitory where he managed to unpack his trunk, find places for all his belongings, sort through his textbooks and arrange his bookshelf nicely without any interruptions.

He even found time to write a letter home and managed to make his way across the castle to the Owlery without getting _too_ lost.

He was, however, waylaid on his way back down. Evan, Thorfinn, Robert, and Angus were leaving the Great Hall together, talking quite animatedly, and Regulus considered hiding behind the same pillar that Sirius had dragged him to earlier that day before Evan spotted him with a grin.

“I didn’t see you at dinner, so I saved you this,” Evan said, handing Regulus a bundle of napkins. Regulus was quite reluctant to hold such a soggy thing but thought it would be rude to refuse the offer and accepted the bundle with gritted teeth.

“Slices of beef and roast potatoes,” Evan explained. “Thought you might be hungry.”

Regulus thanked him, but didn’t mention that he had spent the afternoon working his way through a stack of sandwiches and pies that Kreacher had tucked into a special compartment of his trunk. Thinking on it, he probably ought to have saved those for a more desperate occasion, but he supposed he could always write home and ask for more to be sent.

The five youngest Slytherin boys walked back to their common room together and Regulus was even persuaded to join in the Wizard Chess tournament they had been planning. Angus’s set burst into a furious round of noisy expletives at every loss that made Regulus’s ears burn, and he kept casting nervous glances at his cousin and the prefects but they either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.

Regulus’s delight at winning the boys’ tournament — Evan had always lacked the concentration to play properly, and it seemed that the other boys had not had as much practice as Regulus — was short-lived when a couple of the first year girls decided that they would quite like to have a go too, and he was soundly beaten by one Niamh Murton, another half-blood. Regulus decided that he would probably not be telling Mother about _that_ in his next letter home.

Cissa and her friends eventually displaced them from their coveted cosy position in front of the fire, and Regulus followed the group to join the other first year girls at a large table beneath a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Aurelia Nott had a large box of sweets from her parents, and Regulus found himself willingly joining in as they all took it in turns to choose jellybeans for each other, laughing as the more disgusting ones were discovered (Regulus was _sure_ he had one that tasted like blood) and chatting freely about the classes they were most looking forward to next week.

And he found that being among a group of his peers, with Evan making jokes beside him, wasn’t as completely unbearable as he thought it would have been earlier that day. He didn’t even have a headache.


End file.
